


The Spoils of War

by xxdearlybeloved



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxdearlybeloved/pseuds/xxdearlybeloved
Summary: Ivar and Hvitserk attack a castle, taking you, the princess, hostage. There is violence, a lot of loss, but also angst in Hvitserk's reaction to all of it. His guilt leads to something more, but then where does it go?
Relationships: Hvitserk (Vikings)/You, Hvitserk/Ivar (Vikings), Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	The Spoils of War

Your feet dance across the soft grass as you try to evade your pursuer. You know your mission is futile, you can hear him gaining on you. Were you letting him win? That’s what you would tell him when he caught up with you, but of course he would never believe it. His hands wrap around you as he finally catches you, your squeals piercing the air as you both fall to the ground.

“You’re getting slower,” he says, kissing your neck as you laugh and push him away.

“I wanted you to catch me,” you return playfully, smiling down at Olin as you brush your hand through his curls. You bite your lip, leaning back down to kiss your love before he flips you over and sends you into another fit of laughter.

Olin kisses you again, more slowly as both of your heart rates slow down. The sun is warm on your body and the heat seems to warm even the coldest parts of you. You can’t imagine that heaven could get better.

As if reading your mind, Olin whispers in your ear. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” you smile into his neck, placing kisses there and on his ear before holding his head against your chest. He was yours and no matter what your parents sad he would always be yours.

“We just have to figure out how to tell my father,” you say, beginning your tired inside joke. Your father had long ago told you that your marriage was a duty, and even though Olin was your oldest and dearest friend he was not the match your family needed from you.

“He’ll come around,” Olin replied, smiling at you like the angel he was. He sat up, pulling you up with him to head back to the village. The sun was beginning to set and you knew you would be late for dinner. Olin hadn’t let you of your hand, gently squeezing it and pulling you in for another kiss. Maybe dinner could wait.

He seemed to read your mind, pulling you closer and running his hands down your body in a way that made you shiver. He slows, turning his head back to the village as he listens for something. Then you hear it, too.

Screaming.

Your heart races as you both freeze, the worst crossing your mind as your feet begin to carry you back to your home.

“We should stay,” he holds your arm. You see the fear in his eyes and know what he’s thinking. If there’s trouble, your father always told you to stay out of sight. But you had to know, you couldn’t just stay behind. You shake your head, breaking free of his grasp as you run back. You hear the fighting over the winds rushing through your hair.

As you near the castle, you see the chaos that has ensued. The market is empty, goods thrown and discarded, tents completely knocked down. The smell of blood reaches your nose and you look down, seeing fallen men around you. You picked up a sword from one of your guards, trying not to hear your father’s voice chiding you for not bringing anything with you to protect yourself when you left the castle.

You hear Olin calling you but you don’t stop. You have to find your parents. You have to know they are okay. The fight hasn’t yet overwhelmed the castle. You see the giants who have invaded you fighting inside, but all does not seem lost. You join the fight in a rage to defend your home, sending the sword down with all of your strength.

The curses are foreign but you don’t care as you continue swinging, slicing anything that stands in your way, gratefully catching many of them off guard.

That is, until, one of them catches you off guard. You feel the white hot pain of something cut your calf and you collapse, fear rushing through you as you try and remember your training.

The man who had cut you was one you had taken down, but refused to give up the fight. He was on you, calling you something in his language before Olin pulled his hair and cut his throat, ever the knight.

He smiled at you, reaching to help you up when a spear went right through him. Both of you stared in shock, silence suddenly falling over you as his hands grasped his middle, holding it in place. He fell to his knees, looking at you in disbelief. You scrambled to help him, but were too late as another viking delivered the final blow, taking the love of your life from this earth.

You were screaming. You didn’t realize you were until the same viking striked you in the mouth, obviously trying to quiet you. You fought as you were dragged into the castle, where you noticed the fighting had stopped. The quiet unnerved you, as did the glances of the Vikings as they took you to the throne room.

A dark haired viking sat on your father’s throne, an evil smirk on his face. You were pulled by your hair and deposited before him, rage filling your body as you lunged. You were grabbed again and kneed in the stomach, sending all of the breath from your body.

“No! She’s the princess, please do her no harm,” you heard your father say. “Please, don’t hurt my little girl.”

It hurt you to hear your father’s voice breaking. You hated what it meant, and you wanted to hold him and tell him it would all be okay.

“So this is her,” the viking on the throne said, his voice sending chills down your spine. He came down the throne, using his arms as he came face to face with you. “Even covered in blood, she’s just as beautiful as I’ve heard”

You spit in his face and feel hands pull you to your feet by your hair. Your father yells and you wonder where your mother is. Hopefully she’s safe. She may have made it out in time.

“This is my kingdom now,” the viking says, wiping the spit off of his face. “We don’t need this king anymore, but we may need a queen,” he says, looking up at you.

You watch in horror as they take your father. You are unaware of the men holding you back until another puts a knife at your throat. “Stop fighting or you’ll end up just like your poor mother,” he says, eyes darting down as yours follow.

Like a weight, it hits you and you are on your knees. The men let you go and you make your way to her, wrapping your arms around her, wishing your tears could bring her back to life. You hear the axe swing outside, and the foreign cheers, and you know you’re now an orphan.

YOU DON’T KNOW how long you’d been there, your eyes closed as you taste the blood in your mouth, feeling the ache begin to set in your bones. You try not to think about the morning that now seems so long ago, joking with your parents before going to find the love of your life. How could they all be gone?

Your head is pulled back and you are staring into the same terrifying blue eyes that are smiling at you in a way that doesn’t bring you comfort. “How is she still alive?” He asks, tracing your cheek before looking to the other men.

“She is the princess, my king. We thought she would be –“

“A spoil of war?” he says, smiling at you. “Did you think you would share her? Take turns and brag about lying with royalty?”

“No, we thought she would have useful information. Keep the remaining people from rebelling.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” another man said, walking into the room. He addressed the one with the terrifying blue eyes. “Remember the plan. If we kill her, this will all be for nothing”

“I think there would be something to gain,” he said, pulling back your hair and tracing a finger down your throat.

“Ivar,” the other viking said. Ivar turned to him, letting you go.

“Fine, Hvitserk,” he spat the man’s name. “I just hope you know what you’re doing”

OLIN WHISPERED YOUR name, startling you awake. He had come for you. He was smiling, brightening the room as he reached for you. Your Olin. His arms wrapped around you and you breathed into his chest, his scent calming you, letting you know that despite everything you were going to be okay. As long as you were with him.

And then, like lighting, everything was too bright before it went dark and your hands were wet. When you pulled them away, they were covered with blood, Olin’s blood. You were losing him again. You were screaming, incessantly screaming before you heard another voice call your name.

It was the viking Hvitserk, the one with the kind eyes. “You’re alright,” he said, and you could have laughed at the statement. You were starving, your wounds were screaming in pain, and you smelled awful having not been bathed in days. You looked down at your hands expecting to see blood again but instead you saw that you had wet yourself.

You didn’t think you could cry anymore, but the tears continued to come. Hvitserk couldn’t console you. You wouldn’t let him touch you and he didn’t know what to say. He had told Ivar that you’d needed food at the very least, but he wouldn’t hear it. It was now that his brother had gone back to the beaches that he decided to try and get you some food.

Then he heard you screaming and now he knew he couldn’t leave you like this. Ivar be damned.

He called to the guards to put some warm water in his room. When you had calmed down, he had reached out to you, promising not to hurt you. He approached slowly, his hands outstretched with his palms showing.

“I just want to help,” he said, earnestly. He didn’t blame you for not believing him immediately. He waited patiently while you sat in the corner, eyeing him suspiciously. You thought about the things he could be plotting against you. Was he trying to clean you up so he could use you? Was he going to take you to the evil brother?

But his eyes were patient and you reasoned that nothing he could do would be worse than you’d already survived. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already. At least you would be clean. If you were honest, you were too hungry and delirious to consider your decisions rationally.

You tried to stand but your legs gave out and you were too tired to try. You didn’t protest when he approached you cautiously and lifted you in his arms. He said something to you but you didn’t hear him.

The light was too bright, and you spent most of the time with your eyes closed. He carried you up the stairs, towards the guest rooms on the lower level. You heard the gasps as you neared the room he had taken for his own. Familiar faces, just as bruised as yours, taking in your appearance.

Many had believed you dead, but as your body was not displayed with your parents’ they’d had hope that you had escaped. It was a relief to see you alive, but as they saw you they wondered the cost.

“Princess,” you heard a familiar voice say. It was one of your mother’s ladies, Luella. She had tears in her eyes as she took in your state. “You monsters,” she said to Hvitserk. “You heathens!” She screamed. The viking nearest her reached to strike her, but Hvitserk shook his head.

“Please,” he said, “help me with her.” She looked confused at first, but then her face softened.

“She needs a bath. And food.” Lady Luella said, coming closer and brushing the hair from your face. “I will bathe her. You find her some clothes and food. When was the last time she ate?”

He sat you down in his room, looking apologetically to Lady Luella as she began to undress you. He was sent away to also find bandages, as she feared your wound was infected. She stripped the clothes off of you, cursing as she took in your bruises and filth. “Oh my dear, my little girl, I am so sorry,” she began to cry.

“Please,” you said to her. “It is just so nice to see a familiar face.” You both shared a sad smile before she helped you to the bath and began bathing you, carefully cleaning your entire body and singing a song as she did. You wanted to ask her how long it’d been, why she was even alive, but the words never came.

There was a knock at the door and she went to get your clothes and food. “I need more water to clean her hair,” she said to whoever was at the door.

She helped you out of the bath and into the clothes. The smell of the food was overwhelming and finally she let you eat. When you were finished, she washed your hair. Hvitserk returned as she was brushing it and he was relieved by the sight. You looked much better than the screaming girl he’d carried hours earlier.

“She can have my bed,” he told Lady Luella, taking a blanket from the pile. “I will sleep on the floor, to make sure no one touches her.”

“I would prefer, lord, if I could stay with her.” Her gaze was stern and unyielding. She still did not trust the viking prince.

“If you wish, you may share the bed.”

THE NEXT MORNING, you awakened to a new wave of pain. Days of sleeping on the floor had taken their toll and you were too stiff to move. Lady Luella left to fetch you some breakfast and Hvitserk watched as you tried to stretch the stiffness away.

“I can help,” he said, standing from the floor and stretching himself. “I get stiff sometimes from days on the boats.” He rose and you shrunk into the bed, not sure what he intended to do. “I promise not to hurt you.”

His eyes held yours, silently communicating that he wouldn’t come any closer without your consent. None of it made sense, but you slowly nodded. He came closer, asking you to lay down on your stomach. You did what he said and he slowly, gently worked his hands over your body. He started with your shoulders and worked around your wounds, easing when he felt you wince underneath him. It did hurt, but when he finished it felt better and you were able to move a little better.

Lady Luella had come in silently, confused by the scene in front of her. It was clear to her that Hvitserk did care for your wellbeing, but she still was not sure as to why. He left you to your breakfast and Lady Luella set about styling your hair. She had to get you away from here.

THE DAYS PASSED and you grew stronger. The days seemed almost normal sometimes, but your heart still ached with the bouts of crippling grief. The nightmares persisted and your eyes stung from crying, but you did not return back to the cell they’d held you in. The days actually got better, and you felt guilty each time the sun rose for you while the bodies of so many people you loved were apparently still outside.

Hvitserk’s kindness was also disarming. He always made sure you had every meal, bathed regularly, and were as comfortable as possible. He would take you on walks. Most times, they were silent because the halls and gardens held memories of your parents, Olin, and your life before these strange men destroyed it. You would cry silently and he would watch you, not saying anything but marveling at your strength to carry on despite everything. Other times, you would listen as he told you stories of the places they’d been and the place they’d call home.

His voice was deep but soft and low. You liked to listen to his strange accent. You noticed how he kept you away from the other viking men when possible, not letting a single one into his room that you now unofficially shared with him. He rarely left you alone, making sure Lady Luella was there when he wasn’t. He didn’t trust his brother and he didn’t know how much more you could take.

It was in those moments that you found it hard to reconcile the images in your nightmares with the man walking beside you, the scent of your favorite flowers filling the air. You noticed he had a nice smile that went along with those kind eyes, and it felt a bit easier to laugh with him. The world was a little brighter.

IVAR HAD RETURNED. They had decided to send some boats back to get reinforcements, having heard rumors that the kingdom might be avenged by the king’s brother who held land to the south. He didn’t want to worry, but he wanted to be prepared. He did not come this far to lose.

Hvitserk had been right in keeping the princess hostage. You would be an amazing bargaining chip if worse came to worse. Ivar was sure your uncle would do anything for your life. Maybe even his kingdom.

He made his way to the throne room, casually asking one of the guards to fetch you for him. Ivar intended to question you on your uncle and his army. They could begin preparations with what they had. He looked up as Hvitserk entered, his demeanor tense.

“Hvitserk, to what do I owe the please?”

“I see you’ve returned,” Hvitserk replied.

“Nothing gets past you, does it brother?” Hvitserk ignored his comment.

“I heard you were looking for the princess.”

“I was, is she dead? I wasn’t sure, she has been in the dungeon quite awhile.”

“Not anymore,” Hvitserk said, approaching his brother so he could stand over him.

“What are you saying? Is she dead?”

“She’s in my room, I’ve been feeding her. Keeping her safe.”

“So you’ve fucked her?” Ivar asked, a smirk in his eye.

Hvitserk felt his anger rise. “It’s not like that.”

“Pity,” Ivar continued, “I would love some time alone with her. The things I would do… just to her mouth.” Hvitserk couldn’t stop himself from punching Ivar as hard as he could. He was angered even more when Ivar responded with laughter.

“So you have fucked her,” he said. “You could have said, we don’t have to share.”

Hvitserk picked Ivar up by the shoulder, his face angry. “She’s lost everything, Ivar. What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” he spat at Hvitserk. They stared at each other angrily before Hvitserk let him drop back into the throne.

“You don’t hear her nightmares, her screams,” he said, shaking his head and walking away from Ivar.

“Have you gone soft, brother?” he asked, his voice low and menacing. “Don’t forget why we came here.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Hvitserk returned, his voice equally low.

“Well then, here’s what we have against us.” Ivar explained about the uncle and his plan to keep their hold on the castle. It would be a fight, but they were viking. They were ready.

ONE DAY, LADY Luella was not there when you woke up. Neither was Hvitserk. Instead, the first eyes you saw were the menacing deep blue ones of the brother Ivar.

“You thought you could outsmart me.” He said, looking out of the window. “You and that old lady, you thought we wouldn’t find out.”

Your heart began to race as you clutched the blankets tighter around you. You struggled to find your voice. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He turned to face you again, his smile far from kind. “No one is coming to save you. We have won and you have lost. This land is ours and it is time you accepted it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come and see for yourself.” He turned back to the window and you rose slowly, taking the blanket with you as thin shield. You eyed him warily as you looked out the window. There, in your favorite garden, was Lady Luella. She was in her nightgown, but her arms were splayed unnaturally and you knew the red that you saw was blood.

You wailed. Had he not taken enough from you? You fought him, your arms punching and slapping every inch you could get until you felt arms dragging you backwards. You screamed, increasing your volume as you realized there truly would be no one left to help you. You were alone.

“My brother has gotten soft, but I have taken care of him, too.”

You had no words. You never knew evil could exist, but here it was in front of you, smiling.

Ivar sent you back to the dungeon. You didn’t even scream or struggle for what was the point? Ivar had won, and you had truly lost.

HVITSERK CAME TO you in the middle of the night. His face was bruised but he just wanted to make sure you were okay. He closed the door silently behind him, coming to you and brushing your arm.

You turned to face him, afraid that this was another nightmare. Another angel visiting you in the dungeon. He knelt beside you, brushing your hair out of your face as he tried to think of what to say. In the end, there was only one thing he could think of.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours for absolution. You believed him.

You didn’t know what it was that made your lips find his. Maybe it really was a dream, you figured. He was hesitant at first, but he couldn’t deny himself. He returned your kiss, holding you tenderly in his arms, afraid that doing too much too soon would cause a reaction he wasn’t prepared for.

You wanted to hate him for being a part of the destruction of your life, for kissing the lips that had belonged to Olin, for being here when so many you loved were not. But you couldn’t. You had opened yourself and if he did not hold you, you were sure that you would fall apart. You pulled him closer. Your lips left his and moved to his jaw, his neck. Your hands sought his skin, frantically moving under his clothes.

You needed him closer, you needed to feel him. His iron hands clamped yours down, holding them together to give both of you a chance to think about what you were doing, what you were about to do. His eyes searched yours and you found yourself begging him with body and voice.

“Please,” you whispered, trying to free your hands. “Please,” you moved closer to him, closing the distance he had put between you. Your lips found his again and he resisted, not wanting to take anything else away from you. But you didn’t stop, your kisses going back to his jaw, your tongue tracing to his ear.

He let your hands go, moving his own to hold you as he returned your kiss, letting his tongue dance with yours. You moaned into his mouth, relief flooding your body as he held you tighter, pressing his body against yours. He pulled you into his lap and you wrapped your legs around him, letting his kisses pepper along your neck as he’d done in his dreams all these weeks.

His hands ran up and down your body, leading you to pull off the simple shift dress you wore. You shivered from the cold, but also from the way he admired your body. His rough hands were back on your soft skin, wishing he had more time to learn which spots were your favorite but far too caught up in the moment.

You sighed against him, feeling alive for the first time in weeks. His warm eyes locked onto yours as you reached for him, unsurprised to find him ready for you. You raised yourself to position him under you before slowly lowering yourself onto him.

He watched your face as you took him in, your eyes closed as you made yourself feel every inch. You opened your eyes once he was fully sheathed, locking yours with his. He brought his hands to your hips as you rested your arms around his shoulders. You kept eye contact as you rode him, slowly, not wanting this feeling to end.

You pushed away the guilt as you focused on how it felt to be in his arms. The man who saved you, who kept you alive in more ways than one. You couldn’t tell if he was more of a prisoner than you were, but you were here with him.

Your breath began to catch as the waves started to catch up with you. He watched you begin to slow, marveling at how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. He had tried his hardest to keep still, letting you control this because this, like everything he had done the past few weeks, was for you.

Your eyes closed, and you let the feeling wash over you. You felt Hvitserk bring his lips to your neck, his hands slowly exploring your body, his hips begin to roll under you, and that was enough to send you over the edge.

He groaned as you spasmed over him, holding you tight as you cried our in his ear. He whispered praises to you as he continued to move his hips under you, searching for his own release. You gasped as he moved his body against yours, shifting you so that he went impossibly deeper. He didn’t slow when you whimpered his name, when you begged.

You clung to him, unable to close your legs as they were spread around him. The sounds you made only egged him on, and he did his best to maintain control but he felt himself slowly lose it as he slammed into you. He heard you curse as you came again and he was right behind you, spilling inside you before collapsing backwards and bringing you with him.

You lay in his arms, heart racing as you take in the weight of what you’d done. Would your father forgive you? Your mother? Olin? You were sure you didn’t have long to find out. It wouldn’t be long before you joined them at this rate.

Hvitserk stroked your back in silence as both of your heart rates returned to normal and he softened inside you. You whimpered when he pulled out, but he didn’t let you go as he reached for your dress to put it back on you. You wished he’s brought a blanket and you couldn’t help laughing to yourself at the idea.

You slept in his arms, feeling safe for the first time in since the day that brought him to you. That night, you didn’t dream.

YOU WOKE TO the door banging open, men who were not viking swarmed in around you and Hvitserk, pulling you away from him and pulling him to his feet.

“Kill the heathen,” the man in charge said, taking off his jacker to put over you.

“Please don’t kill him,” you pleaded, fear in your voice. The men looked at you confused. “He helped me,” you tried to explain. “I need him, please -” another man had picked you up and carried you quickly out of the dungeon. You began to protest as you heard fighting behind you, but the man put his hand over your mouth.

“Please princess, we have to get you out of here before the siege,” the man said in an elevated whisper. You saw the men around you and understood.

“Don’t hurt him, please,” was all you could say before he had his hand over your mouth again, following the signals as he carried you outside.

YOU HEARD ABOUT the battle from your Uncle’s men. The night attack had caught them completely off guard, and it did not take them long to flee as your uncle’s rage allowed no prisoners. You’d heard that the viking king and his brother had made it out alive, and you couldn’t explain the tears that fell from your eyes.

You were betrothed to the prince of a neighboring kingdom to ensure protection should the Vikings return again. Your union united the kingdoms, the people more than pleased to have such a beautiful and strong future queen to lead them.

Your husband was a kind man, and you felt blessed thrice over. It was a small reward for the price you had to pay, but the days brought you reasons to smile again. You fell in love as time passed and you had children. Your life seemed to go on.

Often, you found yourself quietly watching the horizon, not sure exactly what you were waiting for. On walks, you would think back to the ones you took in the last days at your old castle. You were visited by all the people you lost in your dreams, until their faces became distant memories and only your heart felt the ache.

Time could heal many wounds, but the scars of war never faded completely.


End file.
